Duke’s eyebrows shot up at the sob in Beth’s voice. Someone had smashed the window of her rental car and she was worried about a frog?
“Beth?” He placed his hand against the nape of her neck and curled his fingers around the soft skin beneath her down vest. “What frog, Beth?”
She sniffled and dragged the back of her hand across her nose. “Some frog I bought in a gift store. I... It’s particular to Timberline.”
“I’m sure they have more.” He released her and braced his hand against the roof of the car. Why was she overreacting about a frog? She must be driving herself hard again, maybe even succumbing to those panic attacks that had plagued her for years.
Because she didn’t even know about the warning the FBI had received about her. He’d debated telling her but didn’t want to worry her needlessly about an anonymous email. Who knew? The emailer may have sent the same message to Beth or her production company. Maybe that was why she was breaking down over a frog.
“You can replace the frog. Will your insurance fix the window on the rental car?”
“I’m sure I’m covered for that.” She leaned into the passenger seat and peeked beneath the seat.
“It’s gone?”
“Yep.”
He kicked a piece of glass with the toe of his boot. “You’re not sitting on glass, are you? The window broke inward, so there’s gotta be some on the seat.”
“There wasn’t.” She climbed out of the car and gripped the edge of the door as if to keep herself steady and upright. “He must’ve brushed it off.”
“We’re reporting this.” Duke pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled through his contacts and placed a call to the Timberline Sheriff’s Department. “We have some vandalism, a broken car window, in the public lot on the corner of Main and River.”
He gave them his name and a description of Beth’s rental car before ending the call.
“Are they coming?” She cupped the keys to the car in one hand and bounced them in her palm.
“Of course. This isn’t LA.” He grabbed her hand and held it up, inspecting the dot of blood on the tip of her ring finger. “There was some glass in the car. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Her wide eyes focused on the blood and she swayed—another overreaction. She seemed to be taking this break-in hard. Maybe she did know about the warning against her—and he didn’t mean Bill’s drunken threats.
Grasping her wrist lightly, he said, “Come with me to my car down the aisle. I have some tissues in there and some water.”
By the time they reached his rental, she’d regained a measure of composure. “Idiots. Why would someone go through all the trouble of breaking a window on a rental car to get to a bag of stuff from a tourist shop?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t left your bag on the passenger seat in plain view.” He unlocked his car and reached into the backseat for a box of tissues, and then grabbed the half-filled bottle of water from his cup holder. “How many times have I told you not to leave things in your car?”
“Let’s see.” She held out her middle finger. “Must’ve been a hundred times at least.”
“Very funny. It’s your ring finger.” At least she’d come out of her daze.
“Oops.” She held out the correct finger and wiggled it.
He moistened a tissue with some water and held it against the bead of blood. “Apply some pressure to that. Did you get cut anywhere else?”
“Not that I can tell.” She tipped her chin toward the cop car rolling into the parking lot. “The deputies are here.”
As two deputies got out of the car, Duke whispered in Beth’s ear. “That’s what I like about Timberline. Two cops come out to investigate a broken window and a missing frog.”
She stiffened beside him but a laugh gurgled in her throat.
She’d sure grown attached to that frog in a short span of time...unless there was something else in the bag she didn’t want to tell him about. With Beth St. Regis, the possibilities were limitless.
The first deputy approached them, adjusting his equipment belt. “You call in the broken window?”
“And a theft. I had a bag in the car from Timberline Treasures.”
The second deputy pointed at Beth. “You’re Beth St. Regis from that show.”
“Do you watch it?”
“No, just heard you were in town to dig up the old Timberline Trio case.”
“I think Wyatt Carson already did that.” She jerked her thumb at Duke. “You do know the FBI is looking into the case again, too.”
The officer nodded at Duke and stuck out his hand. “Deputy Stevens. I heard the FBI was sending in a cold-case agent. The sheriff already turned over our files, right?”
“Special Agent Duke Harper.” He shook hands with the other man. “And I have the files.”
The other officer stepped forward, offering his hand as well. “Deputy Unger. We’ll do whatever we can to help you. My mother was good friends with Mrs. Brice at the time of the kidnapping. I was about five years older than Heather when she went missing. That family was never the same after that. Had to leave the area.”
Beth was practically buzzing beside him. “Deputy Unger, could I interview you for the show?”
“Ma’am, no disrespect intended, but I’m here to help the FBI. I’m not interested in being a part of sensationalizing the crime. We’ve had enough of that lately.”
“But...”
Duke poked her in the back. “You wanna have a look at the car now?”
“Sure. We’ll take a report for the rental-car company and insurance purposes. Probably a kid or one of our local junkies.”
Duke asked, “Do you have a drug problem in Timberline?”
“Crystal meth, just like a lot of rural areas.” Unger flipped open his notebook and scribbled across the page.
When they finished taking the report, they shook hands with Duke again. “Anything we can do, Agent Harper.”
“Well, they weren’t very friendly.” Beth curled one fist against her hip.
“I thought they were very friendly.”
“Yeah, you get the cops and I get Carson’s ex-girlfriend’s dog walker’s cousin.”
“Second cousin’s ex–dog sitter.”
“Right.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat of the car and hung on the door. “Thanks for seeing me through the report...and the words of advice.”
He was close enough to her that the musky smell of her perfume wafted over him. “Do you want some more advice, Beth?”
She blinked. “If you’re dishing it out.”
“Find another case for your show. Get off this Timberline Trio gig. Since I’m in the Siberia of cold-case hell anyway, I can even toss a couple of good ones your way.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that? You must really want me off this case.”
“It’s not me.” Raking a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath. “Someone else wants you off this case.”
“What? Who? Bill?”
“We got an anonymous email and I don’t think